'It came from no jesting person,' said Mr. Sampson.

'From whom then did it come?' demanded Mannering.

The Dominie, who often displayed some delicacy of recollection in cases
where Miss Bertram had an interest, remembered the painful circumstances
connected with Meg Merrilies, looked at the young ladies, and remained
silent. 'We will join you at the tea-table in an instant, Julia,' said
the Colonel; 'I see that Mr. Sampson wishes to speak to me alone. And now
they are gone, what, in Heaven's name, Mr. Sampson, is the meaning of all
this?'

'It may be a message from Heaven,' said the Dominie, 'but it came by
Beelzebub's postmistress. It was that witch, Meg Merrilies, who should
have been burned with a tar-barrel twenty years since for a harlot,
thief, witch, and gipsy.'

'Are you sure it was she?' said the Colonel with great interest.

'Sure, honoured sir? Of a truth she is one not to be forgotten, the like
o' Meg Merrilies is not to be seen in any land.'

The Colonel paced the room rapidly, cogitating with himself. 'To send out
to apprehend her; but it is too distant to send to Mac-Morlan, and Sir
Robert Hazlewood is a pompous coxcomb; besides, the chance of not finding
her upon the spot, or that the humour of silence that seized her before
may again return. No, I will not, to save being thought a fool, neglect
the course she points out. Many of her class set out by being impostors
and end by becoming enthusiasts, or hold a kind of darkling conduct
between both lines, unconscious almost when they are cheating themselves
or when imposing on others. Well, my course is a plain one at any rate;
and if my efforts are fruitless, it shall not be owing to over-jealousy
of my own character for wisdom.'

With this he rang the bell, and, ordering Barnes into his private
sitting-room, gave him some orders, with the result of which the reader
may be made hereafter acquainted.

We must now take up another adventure, which is also to be woven into the
story of this remarkable day.

Charles Hazlewood had not ventured to make a visit at Woodbourne during
the absence of the Colonel. Indeed, Mannering's whole behaviour had
impressed upon him an opinion that this would be disagreeable; and such
was the ascendency which the successful soldier and accomplished
gentleman had attained over the young man's conduct, that in no respect
would he have ventured to offend him. He saw, or thought he saw, in
Colonel Mannering's general conduct, an approbation of his attachment to
Miss Bertram. But then he saw still more plainly the impropriety of any
attempt at a private correspondence, of which his parents could not be
supposed to approve, and he respected this barrier interposed betwixt
them both on Mannering's account and as he was the liberal and zealous
protector of Miss Bertram. 'No,' said he to himself, 'I will not endanger
the comfort of my Lucy's present retreat until I can offer her a home of
her own.'

With this valorous resolution, which he maintained although his horse,
from constant habit, turned his head down the avenue of Woodbourne, and
although he himself passed the lodge twice every day, Charles Hazlewood
withstood a strong inclination to ride down just to ask how the young
ladies were, and whether he could be of any service to them during
Colonel Mannering's absence. But on the second occasion he felt the
temptation so severe that he resolved not to expose himself to it a third
time; and, contenting himself with sending hopes and inquiries and so
forth to Woodbourne, he resolved to make a visit long promised to a
family at some distance, and to return in such time as to be one of the
earliest among Mannering's visitors who should congratulate his safe
arrival from his distant and hazardous expedition to Edinburgh.
Accordingly he made out his visit, and, having arranged matters so as to
be informed within a few hours after Colonel Mannering reached home, he
finally resolved to take leave of the friends with whom he had spent the
intervening time, with the intention of dining at Woodbourne, where he
was in a great measure domesticated; and this (for he thought much more
deeply on the subject than was necessary) would, he flattered himself,
appear a simple, natural, and easy mode of conducting himself.

Fate, however, of which lovers make so many complaints, was in this case
unfavourable to Charles Hazlewood. His horse's shoes required an
alteration, in consequence of the fresh weather having decidedly
commenced. The lady of the house where he was a visitor chose to indulge
in her own room till a very late breakfast hour. His friend also insisted
on showing him a litter of puppies which his favourite pointer bitch had
produced that morning. The colours had occasioned some doubts about the
paternity--a weighty question of legitimacy, to the decision of which
Hazlewood's opinion was called in as arbiter between his friend and his
groom, and which inferred in its consequences which of the litter should
be drowned, which saved. Besides, the Laird himself delayed our young
lover's departure for a considerable time, endeavouring, with long and
superfluous rhetoric, to insinuate to Sir Robert Hazlewood, through the
medium of his son, his own particular ideas respecting the line of a
meditated turnpike road. It is greatly to the shame of our young lover's
apprehension that, after the tenth reiterated account of the matter, he
could not see the advantage to be obtained by the proposed road passing
over the Lang Hirst, Windy Knowe, the Goodhouse Park, Hailziecroft, and
then crossing the river at Simon's Pool, and so by the road to
Kippletringan; and the less eligible line pointed out by the English
surveyor, which would go clear through the main enclosures at Hazlewood,
and cut within a mile or nearly so of the house itself, destroying the
privacy and pleasure, as his informer contended, of the grounds. In
short, the adviser (whose actual interest was to have the bridge built as
near as possible to a farm of his own) failed in every effort to attract
young Hazlewood's attention until he mentioned by chance that the
proposed line was favoured by 'that fellow Glossin,' who pretended to
take a lead in the county. On a sudden young Hazlewood became attentive
and interested; and, having satisfied himself which was the line that
Glossin patronised, assured his friend it should not be his fault if his
father did not countenance any other instead of that. But these various
interruptions consumed the morning. Hazlewood got on horseback at least
three hours later than he intended, and, cursing fine ladies, pointers,
puppies, and turnpike acts of parliament, saw himself detained beyond the
time when he could with propriety intrude upon the family at Woodbourne.

He had passed, therefore, the turn of the road which led to that mansion,
only edified by the distant appearance of the blue smoke curling against
the pale sky of the winter evening, when he thought he beheld the Dominie
taking a footpath for the house through the woods. He called after him,
but in vain; for that honest gentleman, never the most susceptible of
extraneous impressions, had just that moment parted from Meg Merrilies,
and was too deeply wrapt up in pondering upon her vaticinations to make
any answer to Hazlewood's call. He was therefore obliged to let him
proceed without inquiry after the health of the young ladies, or any
other fishing question, to which he might by good chance have had an
answer returned wherein Miss Bertram's name might have been mentioned.
All cause for haste was now over, and, slackening the reins upon his
horse's neck, he permitted the animal to ascend at his own leisure the
steep sandy track between two high banks, which, rising to a considerable
height, commanded at length an extensive view of the neighbouring
country.

Hazlewood was, however, so far from eagerly looking forward to this
prospect, though it had the recommendation that great part of the land
was his father's, and must necessarily be his own, that his head still
turned backward towards the chimneys of Woodbourne, although at every
step his horse made the difficulty of employing his eyes in that
direction become greater. From the reverie in which he was sunk he was
suddenly roused by a voice, too harsh to be called female, yet too shrill
for a man: 'What's kept you on the road sae lang? Maun ither folk do your
wark?'

He looked up. The spokeswoman was very tall, had a voluminous
handkerchief rolled round her head, grizzled hair flowing in elf-locks
from beneath it, a long red cloak, and a staff in her hand, headed with a
sort of spear-point; it was, in short, Meg Merrilies. Hazlewood had never
seen this remarkable figure before; he drew up his reins in astonishment
at her appearance, and made a full stop. 'I think,' continued she, 'they
that hae taen interest in the house of Ellangowan suld sleep nane this
night; three men hae been seeking ye, and you are gaun hame to sleep in
your bed. D' ye think if the lad-bairn fa's, the sister will do weel? Na,
na!'

'I don't understand you, good woman,' said Hazlewood. 'If you speak of
Miss---, I mean of any of the late Ellangowan family, tell me what I can
do for them.'

'Of the late Ellangowan family?' she answered with great vehemence--'of
the LATE Ellangowan family! and when was there ever, or when will there
ever be, a family of Ellangowan but bearing the gallant name of the bauld
Bertrams?'

'But what do you mean, good woman?'

'I am nae good woman; a' the country kens I am bad eneugh, and baith they
and I may be sorry eneugh that I am nae better. But I can do what good
women canna, and daurna do. I can do what would freeze the blood o' them
that is bred in biggit wa's for naething but to bind bairns' heads and to
hap them in the cradle. Hear me: the guard's drawn off at the
custom-house at Portanferry, and it's brought up to Hazlewood House by
your father's orders, because he thinks his house is to be attacked this
night by the smugglers. There's naebody means to touch his house; he has
gude blood and gentle blood--I say little o' him for himsell--but there's
naebody thinks him worth meddling wi'. Send the horsemen back to their
post, cannily and quietly; see an they winna hae wark the night, ay will
they: the guns will flash and the swords will glitter in the braw moon.'

'Good God! what do you mean?' said young Hazlewood; 'your words and
manner would persuade me you are mad, and yet there is a strange
combination in what you say.'

'I am not mad!' exclaimed the gipsy; 'I have been imprisoned for
mad--scourged for mad--banished for mad--but mad I am not. Hear ye,
Charles Hazlewood of Hazlewood: d'ye bear malice against him that wounded
you?'

'No, dame, God forbid; my arm is quite well, and I have always said the
shot was discharged by accident. I should be glad to tell the young man
so himself.'

'Then do what I bid ye,' answered Meg Merrilies, 'and ye 'll do him mair
gude than ever he did you ill; for if he was left to his ill-wishers he
would be a bloody corpse ere morn, or a banished man; but there's Ane
abune a'. Do as I bid you; send back the soldiers to Portanferry. There's
nae mair fear o' Hazlewood House than there's o' Cruffel Fell.' And she
vanished with her usual celerity of pace.

It would seem that the appearance of this female, and the mixture of
frenzy and enthusiasm in her manner, seldom failed to produce the
strongest impression upon those whom she addressed. Her words, though
wild, were too plain and intelligible for actual madness, and yet too
vehement and extravagant for sober-minded communication. She seemed
acting under the influence of an imagination rather strongly excited than
deranged; and it is wonderful how palpably the difference in such cases
is impressed upon the mind of the auditor. This may account for the
attention with which her strange and mysterious hints were heard and
acted upon. It is certain, at least, that young Hazlewood was strongly
impressed by her sudden appearance and imperative tone. He rode to
Hazlewood at a brisk pace. It had been dark for some time before he
reached the house, and on his arrival there he saw a confirmation of what
the sibyl had hinted.

Thirty dragoon horses stood under a shed near the offices, with their
bridles linked together. Three or four soldiers attended as a guard,
while others stamped up and down with their long broadswords and heavy
boots in front of the house. Hazlewood asked a non-commissioned officer
from whence they came.

'From Portanferry.'

'Had they left any guard there?'

'No; they had been drawn off by order of Sir Robert Hazlewood for defence
of his house against an attack which was threatened by the smugglers.'

Charles Hazlewood instantly went in quest of his father, and, having paid
his respects to him upon his return, requested to know upon what account
he had thought it necessary to send for a military escort. Sir Robert
assured his son in reply that, from the information, intelligence, and
tidings which had been communicated to, and laid before him, he had the
deepest reason to believe, credit, and be convinced that a riotous
assault would that night be attempted and perpetrated against Hazlewood
House by a set of smugglers, gipsies, and other desperadoes.

'And what, my dear sir,' said his son, 'should direct the fury of such
persons against ours rather than any other house in the country?'

'I should rather think, suppose, and be of opinion, sir,' answered Sir
Robert, 'with deference to your wisdom and experience, that on these
occasions and times the vengeance of such persons is directed or levelled
against the most important and distinguished in point of rank, talent,
birth, and situation who have checked, interfered with, and
discountenanced their unlawful and illegal and criminal actions or
deeds.'

Young Hazlewood, who knew his father's foible, answered, that the cause
of his surprise did not lie where Sir Robert apprehended, but that he
only wondered they should think of attacking a house where there were so
many servants, and where a signal to the neighbouring tenants could call
in such strong assistance; and added, that he doubted much whether the
reputation of the family would not in some degree suffer from calling
soldiers from their duty at the custom-house to protect them, as if they
were not sufficiently strong to defend themselves upon any ordinary
occasion. He even hinted that, in case their house's enemies should
observe that this precaution had been taken unnecessarily, there would be
no end of their sarcasms.

Sir Robert Hazlewood was rather puzzled at this intimation, for, like
most dull men, he heartily hated and feared ridicule. He gathered himself
up and looked with a sort of pompous embarrassment, as if he wished to be
thought to despise the opinion of the public, which in reality he
dreaded.

'I really should have thought,' he said, 'that the injury which had
already been aimed at my house in your person, being the next heir and
representative of the Hazlewood family, failing me--I should have thought
and believed, I say, that this would have justified me sufficiently in
the eyes of the most respectable and the greater part of the people for
taking such precautions as are calculated to prevent and impede a
repetition of outrage.'

'Really, sir,' said Charles, 'I must remind you of what I have often said
before, that I am positive the discharge of the piece was accidental.'

'Sir, it was not accidental,' said his father, angrily; 'but you will be
wiser than your elders.'

'Really, sir,' replied Hazlewood, 'in what so intimately concerns
myself---'

'Sir, it does not concern you but in a very secondary degree; that is, it
does not concern you, as a giddy young fellow who takes pleasure in
contradicting his father; but it concerns the country, sir, and the
county, sir, and the public, sir, and the kingdom of Scotland, in so far
as the interest of the Hazlewood family, sir, is committed and interested
and put in peril, in, by, and through you, sir. And the fellow is in safe
custody, and Mr. Glossin thinks---'

'Mr. Glossin, sir?'

'Yes, sir, the gentleman who has purchased Ellangowan; you know who I
mean, I suppose?'

'Yes, sir,' answered the young man; 'but I should hardly have expected to
hear you quote such authority. Why, this fellow--all the world knows him
to be sordid, mean, tricking, and I suspect him to be worse. And you
yourself, my dear sir, when did you call such a person a gentleman in
your life before?'

'Why, Charles, I did not mean gentleman in the precise sense and meaning,
and restricted and proper use, to which, no doubt, the phrase ought
legitimately to be confined; but I meant to use it relatively, as marking
something of that state to which he has elevated and raised himself; as
designing, in short, a decent and wealthy and estimable sort of a
person.'

'Allow me to ask, sir,' said Charles, 'if it was by this man's orders
that the guard was drawn from Portanferry?'

'Sir,' replied the Baronet, 'I do apprehend that Mr. Glossin would not
presume to give orders, or even an opinion, unless asked, in a matter in
which Hazlewood House and the house of Hazlewood--meaning by the one this
mansion-house of my family, and by the other, typically, metaphorically,
and parabolically, the family itself,--I say, then, where the house of
Hazlewood, or Hazlewood House, was so immediately concerned.'

'I presume, however, sir,' said the son, 'this Glossin approved of the
proposal?'

'Sir,' replied his father, 'I thought it decent and right and proper to
consult him as the nearest magistrate as soon as report of the intended
outrage reached my ears; and although he declined, out of deference and
respect, as became our relative situations, to concur in the order, yet
he did entirely approve of my arrangement.'

At this moment a horse's feet were heard coming very fast up the avenue.
In a few minutes the door opened, and Mr. Mac-Morlan presented himself.
'I am under great concern to intrude, Sir Robert, but---'

'Give me leave, Mr. Mac-Morlan,' said Sir Robert, with a gracious
flourish of welcome; 'this is no intrusion, sir; for, your situation as
sheriff-substitute calling upon you to attend to the peace of the county,
and you, doubtless, feeling yourself particularly called upon to protect
Hazlewood House, you have an acknowledged and admitted and undeniable
right, sir, to enter the house of the first gentleman in Scotland
uninvited--always presuming you to be called there by the duty of your
office.'

'It is indeed the duty of my office,' said Mac-Morlan, who waited with
impatience an opportunity to speak, 'that makes me an intruder.'

'No intrusion!' reiterated the Baronet, gracefully waving his hand.

'But permit me to say, Sir Robert,' said the sheriff-substitute, 'I do
not come with the purpose of remaining here, but to recall these soldiers
to Portanferry, and to assure you that I will answer for the safety of
your house.'

'To withdraw the guard from Hazlewood House!' exclaimed the proprietor in
mingled displeasure and surprise; 'and YOU will be answerable for it!
And, pray, who are you, sir, that I should take your security and caution
and pledge, official or personal, for the safety of Hazlewood House? I
think, sir, and believe, sir, and am of opinion, sir, that if any one of
these family pictures were deranged or destroyed or injured it would be
difficult for me to make up the loss upon the guarantee which you so
obligingly offer me.'

'In that case I shall be sorry for it, Sir Robert,' answered the
downright Mac-Morlan; 'but I presume I may escape the pain of feeling my
conduct the cause of such irreparable loss, as I can assure you there
will be no attempt upon Hazlewood House whatever, and I have received
information which induces me to suspect that the rumour was put afloat
merely in order to occasion the removal of the soldiers from Portanferry.
And under this strong belief and conviction I must exert my authority as
sheriff and chief magistrate of police to order the whole, or greater
part of them, back again. I regret much that by my accidental absence a
good deal of delay has already taken place, and we shall not now reach
Portanferry until it is late.'

As Mr. Mac-Morlan was the superior magistrate, and expressed himself
peremptory in the purpose of acting as such, the Baronet, though highly
offended, could only say, 'Very well, sir; it is very well. Nay, sir,
take them all with you; I am far from desiring any to be left here, sir.
We, sir, can protect ourselves, sir. But you will have the goodness to
observe, sir, that you are acting on your own proper risk, sir, and
peril, sir, and responsibility, sir, if anything shall happen or befall
to Hazlewood House, sir, or the inhabitants, sir, or to the furniture and
paintings, sir.'

'I am acting to the best of my judgment and information, Sir Robert,'
said Mac-Morlan, 'and I must pray of you to believe so, and to pardon me
accordingly. I beg you to observe it is no time for ceremony; it is
already very late.'

But Sir Robert, without deigning to listen to his apologies, immediately
employed himself with much parade in arming and arraying his domestics.
Charles Hazlewood longed to accompany the military, which were about to
depart for Portanferry, and which were now drawn up and mounted by
direction and under the guidance of Mr. Mac-Morlan, as the civil
magistrate. But it would have given just pain and offence to his father
to have left him at a moment when he conceived himself and his
mansion-house in danger. Young Hazlewood therefore gazed from a window
with suppressed regret and displeasure, until he heard the officer give
the word of command--'From the right to the front, by files, m-a-rch.
Leading file, to the right wheel. Trot.' The whole party of soldiers then
getting into a sharp and uniform pace, were soon lost among the trees,
and the noise of the hoofs died speedily away in the distance.






CHAPTER XIX
     Wi' coulters and wi' forehammers
     We garr'd the bars bang merrily,
     Until we came to the inner prison,
     Where Willie o' Kinmont he did lie.

          Old Border Ballad.


We return to Portanferry, and to Bertram and his honest-hearted friend,
whom we left most innocent inhabitants of a place built for the guilty.
The slumbers of the farmer were as sound as it was possible.

But Bertram's first heavy sleep passed away long before midnight, nor
could he again recover that state of oblivion. Added to the uncertain and
uncomfortable state of his mind, his body felt feverish and oppressed.
This was chiefly owing to the close and confined air of the small
apartment in which they slept. After enduring for some time the broiling
and suffocating feeling attendant upon such an atmosphere, he rose to
endeavour to open the window of the apartment, and thus to procure a
change of air. Alas! the first trial reminded him that he was in jail,
and that the building being contrived for security, not comfort, the
means of procuring fresh air were not left at the disposal of the
wretched inhabitants.

Disappointed in this attempt, he stood by the unmanageable window for
some time. Little Wasp, though oppressed with the fatigue of his journey
on the preceding day, crept out of bed after his master, and stood by him
rubbing his shaggy coat against his legs, and expressing by a murmuring
sound the delight which he felt at being restored to him. Thus
accompanied, and waiting until the feverish feeling which at present
agitated his blood should subside into a desire for warmth and slumber,
Bertram remained for some time looking out upon the sea.

The tide was now nearly full, and dashed hoarse and near below the base
of the building. Now and then a large wave reached even the barrier or
bulwark which defended the foundation of the house, and was flung up on
it with greater force and noise than those which only broke upon the
sand. Far in the distance, under the indistinct light of a hazy and often
overclouded moon, the ocean rolled its multitudinous complication of
waves, crossing, bursting, and mingling with each other.

'A wild and dim spectacle,' said Bertram to himself, 'like those crossing
tides of fate which have tossed me about the world from my infancy
upwards. When will this uncertainty cease, and how soon shall I be
permitted to look out for a tranquil home, where I may cultivate in
quiet, and without dread and perplexity, those arts of peace from which
my cares have been hitherto so forcibly diverted? The ear of Fancy, it is
said, can discover the voice of sea-nymphs and tritons amid the bursting
murmurs of the ocean; would that I could do so, and that some siren or
Proteus would arise from these billows to unriddle for me the strange
maze of fate in which I am so deeply entangled! Happy friend!' he said,
looking at the bed where Dinmont had deposited his bulky person, 'thy
cares are confined to the narrow round of a healthy and thriving
occupation! Thou canst lay them aside at pleasure, and enjoy the deep
repose of body and mind which wholesome labour has prepared for thee!'

At this moment his reflections were broken by little Wasp, who,
attempting to spring up against the window, began to yelp and bark most
furiously. The sounds reached Dinmont's ears, but without dissipating the
illusion which had transported him from this wretched apartment to the
free air of his own green hills. 'Hoy, Yarrow, man! far yaud, far yaud!'
he muttered between his teeth, imagining, doubtless, that he was calling
to his sheep-dog, and hounding him in shepherds' phrase against some
intruders on the grazing. The continued barking of the terrier within was
answered by the angry challenge of the mastiff in the courtyard, which
had for a long time been silent, excepting only an occasional short and
deep note, uttered when the moon shone suddenly from among the clouds.
Now his clamour was continued and furious, and seemed to be excited by
some disturbance distinct from the barking of Wasp, which had first given
him the alarm, and which, with much trouble, his master had contrived to
still into an angry note of low growling.

At last Bertram, whose attention was now fully awakened, conceived that
he saw a boat upon the sea, and heard in good earnest the sound of oars
and of human voices mingling with the dash of the billows. 'Some
benighted fishermen,' he thought, 'or perhaps some of the desperate
traders from the Isle of Man. They are very hardy, however, to approach
so near to the custom-house, where there must be sentinels. It is a large
boat, like a long-boat, and full of people; perhaps it belongs to the
revenue service.' Bertram was confirmed in this last opinion by observing
that the boat made for a little quay which ran into the sea behind the
custom-house, and, jumping ashore one after another, the crew, to the
number of twenty hands, glided secretly up a small lane which divided the
custom-house from the bridewell, and disappeared from his sight, leaving
only two persons to take care of the boat.

The dash of these men's oars at first, and latterly the suppressed sounds
of their voices, had excited the wrath of the wakeful sentinel in the
courtyard, who now exalted his deep voice into such a horrid and
continuous din that it awakened his brute master, as savage a ban-dog as
himself. His cry from a window, of 'How now, Tearum, what's the matter,
sir? down, d--n ye, down!' produced no abatement of Tearum's
vociferation, which in part prevented his master from hearing the sounds
of alarm which his ferocious vigilance was in the act of challenging. But
the mate of the two-legged Cerberus was gifted with sharper ears than her
husband. She also was now at the window. 'B--t ye, gae down and let loose
the dog,' she said; 'they're sporting the door of the custom-house, and
the auld sap at Hazlewood House has ordered off the guard. But ye hae nae
mair heart than a cat.' And down the Amazon sallied to perform the task
herself, while her helpmate, more jealous of insurrection within doors
than of storm from without, went from cell to cell to see that the
inhabitants of each were carefully secured.

These latter sounds with which we have made the reader acquainted had
their origin in front of the house, and were consequently imperfectly
heard by Bertram, whose apartment, as we have already noticed, looked
from the back part of the building upon the sea. He heard, however, a
stir and tumult in the house, which did not seem to accord with the stern
seclusion of a prison at the hour of midnight, and, connecting them with
the arrival of an armed boat at that dead hour, could not but suppose
that something extraordinary was about to take place. In this belief he
shook Dinmont by the shoulder. 'Eh! Ay! Oh! Ailie, woman, it's no time to
get up yet,' groaned the sleeping man of the mountains. More roughly
shaken, however, he gathered himself up, shook his ears, and asked, 'In
the name of Providence what's the matter?'

'That I can't tell you,' replied Bertram; 'but either the place is on
fire or some extraordinary thing is about to happen. Are you not sensible
of a smell of fire? Do you not hear what a noise there is of clashing
doors within the house and of hoarse voices, murmurs, and distant shouts
on the outside? Upon my word, I believe something very extraordinary has
taken place. Get up, for the love of Heaven, and let us be on our guard.'

Dinmont rose at the idea of danger, as intrepid and undismayed as any of
his ancestors when the beacon-light was kindled. 'Od, Captain, this is a
queer place! they winna let ye out in the day, and they winna let ye
sleep in the night. Deil, but it wad break my heart in a fortnight. But,
Lordsake, what a racket they're making now! Od, I wish we had some light.
Wasp, Wasp, whisht, hinny; whisht, my bonnie man, and let's hear what
they're doing. Deil's in ye, will ye whisht?'

They sought in vain among the embers the means of lighting their candle,
and the noise without still continued. Dinmont in his turn had recourse
to the window--'Lordsake, Captain! come here. Od, they hae broken the
custom-house!'

Bertram hastened to the window, and plainly saw a miscellaneous crowd of
smugglers, and blackguards of different descriptions, some carrying
lighted torches, others bearing packages and barrels down the lane to the
boat that was lying at the quay, to which two or three other fisher-boats
were now brought round. They were loading each of these in their turn,
and one or two had already put off to seaward. 'This speaks for itself,'
said Bertram; 'but I fear something worse has happened. Do you perceive a
strong smell of smoke, or is it my fancy?'

'Fancy?' answered Dinmont, 'there's a reek like a killogie. Od, if they
burn the custom-house it will catch here, and we'll lunt like a
tar-barrel a' thegither. Eh! it wad be fearsome to be burnt alive for
naething, like as if ane had been a warlock! Mac-Guffog, hear ye!'
roaring at the top of his voice; 'an ye wad ever hae a haill bane in your
skin, let's out, man, let's out!'

The fire began now to rise high, and thick clouds of smoke rolled past
the window at which Bertram and Dinmont were stationed. Sometimes, as the
wind pleased, the dim shroud of vapour hid everything from their sight;
sometimes a red glare illuminated both land and sea, and shone full on
the stern and fierce figures who, wild with ferocious activity, were
engaged in loading the boats. The fire was at length triumphant, and
spouted in jets of flame out at each window of the burning building,
while huge flakes of flaming materials came driving on the wind against
the adjoining prison, and rolling a dark canopy of smoke over all the
neighbourhood. The shouts of a furious mob resounded far and wide; for
the smugglers in their triumph were joined by all the rabble of the
little town and neighbourhood, now aroused and in complete agitation,
notwithstanding the lateness of the hour, some from interest in the free
trade, and most from the general love of mischief and tumult natural to a
vulgar populace.

Bertram began to be seriously anxious for their fate. There was no stir
in the house; it seemed as if the jailor had deserted his charge, and
left the prison with its wretched inhabitants to the mercy of the
conflagration which was spreading towards them. In the meantime a new and
fierce attack was heard upon the outer gate of the correction house,
which, battered with sledge-hammers and crows, was soon forced. The
keeper, as great a coward as a bully, with his more ferocious wife, had
fled; their servants readily surrendered the keys. The liberated
prisoners, celebrating their deliverance with the wildest yells of joy,
mingled among the mob which had given them freedom.

In the midst of the confusion that ensued three or four of the principal
smugglers hurried to the apartment of Bertram with lighted torches, and
armed with cutlasses and pistols. 'Der deyvil,' said the leader, 'here's
our mark!' and two of them seized on Bertram; but one whispered in his
ear,' Make no resistance till you are in the street.' The same individual
found an instant to say to Dinmont--'Follow your friend, and help when
you see the time come.'

In the hurry of the moment Dinmont obeyed and followed close. The two
smugglers dragged Bertram along the passage, downstairs, through the
courtyard, now illuminated by the glare of fire, and into the narrow
street to which the gate opened, where in the confusion the gang were
necessarily in some degree separated from each other. A rapid noise, as
of a body of horse advancing, seemed to add to the disturbance. 'Hagel
and wetter, what is that?' said the leader; 'keep together, kinder; look
to the prisoner.' But in spite of his charge the two who held Bertram
were the last of the party.

The sounds and signs of violence were heard in front. The press became
furiously agitated, while some endeavoured to defend themselves, others
to escape; shots were fired, and the glittering broadswords of the
dragoons began to appear flashing above the heads of the rioters. 'Now,'
said the warning whisper of the man who held Bertram's left arm, the same
who had spoken before, 'shake off that fellow and follow me.'

Bertram, exerting his strength suddenly and effectually, easily burst
from the grasp of the man who held his collar on the right side. The
fellow attempted to draw a pistol, but was prostrated by a blow of
Dinmont's fist, which an ox could hardly have received without the same
humiliation. 'Follow me quick,' said the friendly partizan, and dived
through a very narrow and dirty lane which led from the main street.

No pursuit took place. The attention of the smugglers had been otherwise
and very disagreeably engaged by the sudden appearance of Mac-Morlan and
the party of horse. The loud, manly voice of the provincial magistrate
was heard proclaiming the Riot Act, and charging 'all those unlawfully
assembled to disperse at their own proper peril.' This interruption
would, indeed, have happened in time sufficient to have prevented the
attempt, had not the magistrate received upon the road some false
information which led him to think that the smugglers were to land at the
bay of Ellangowan. Nearly two hours were lost in consequence of this
false intelligence, which it may be no lack of charity to suppose that
Glossin, so deeply interested in the issue of that night's daring
attempt, had contrived to throw in Mac-Morlan's way, availing himself of
the knowledge that the soldiers had left Hazlewood House, which would
soon reach an ear so anxious as his.

In the meantime, Bertram followed his guide, and was in his turn followed
by Dinmont. The shouts of the mob, the trampling of the horses, the
dropping pistol-shots, sunk more and more faintly upon their ears, when
at the end of the dark lane they found a post-chaise with four horses.
'Are you here, in God's name?' said the guide to the postilion who drove
the leaders.

'Ay, troth am I,' answered Jock Jabos, 'and I wish I were ony gate else.'

'Open the carriage then. You, gentlemen, get into it; in a short time
you'll be in a place of safety, and (to Bertram) remember your promise to
the gipsy wife!'

Bertram, resolving to be passive in the hands of a person who had just
rendered him such a distinguished piece of service, got into the chaise
as directed. Dinmont followed; Wasp, who had kept close by them, sprung
in at the same time, and the carriage drove off very fast. 'Have a care
o' me,' said Dinmont, 'but this is the queerest thing yet! Od, I trust
they'll no coup us. And then what's to come o' Dumple? I would rather be
on his back than in the Deuke's coach, God bless him.'

Bertram observed, that they could not go at that rapid rate to any very
great distance without changing horses, and that they might insist upon
remaining till daylight at the first inn they stopped at, or at least
upon being made acquainted with the purpose and termination of their
journey, and Mr. Dinmont might there give directions about his faithful
horse, which would probably be safe at the stables where he had left him.
'Aweel, aweel, e'en sae be it for Dandie. Od, if we were ance out o' this
trindling kist o' a thing, I am thinking they wad find it hard wark to
gar us gang ony gate but where we liked oursells.'

While he thus spoke the carriage, making a sudden turn, showed them
through the left window the village at some distance, still widely
beaconed by the fire, which, having reached a store-house wherein spirits
were deposited, now rose high into the air, a wavering column of
brilliant light. They had not long time to admire this spectacle, for
another turn of the road carried them into a close lane between
plantations, through which the chaise proceeded in nearly total darkness,
but with unabated speed.






CHAPTER XX
     The night drave on wi' sangs and clatter,
     And aye the ale was growing better

          Tam o'Shanter.


We must now return to Woodbourne, which, it may be remembered, we left
just after the Colonel had given some directions to his confidential
servant. When he returned, his absence of mind, and an unusual expression
of thought and anxiety upon his features, struck the ladies, whom he
joined in the drawing-room. Mannering was not, however, a man to be
questioned, even by those whom he most loved, upon the cause of the
mental agitation which these signs expressed. The hour of tea arrived,
and the party were partaking of that refreshment in silence when a
carriage drove up to the door, and the bell announced the arrival of a
visitor. 'Surely,' said Mannering, 'it is too soon by some hours.'

There was a short pause, when Barnes, opening the door of the saloon,
announced Mr. Pleydell. In marched the lawyer, whose well-brushed black
coat and well-powdered wig, together with his point ruffles, brown silk
stockings, highly-varnished shoes, and gold buckles, exhibited the pains
which the old gentleman had taken to prepare his person for the ladies'
society. He was welcomed by Mannering with a hearty shake by the hand.
'The very man I wished to see at this moment!'

'Yes,' said the Counsellor, 'I told you I would take the first
opportunity; so I have ventured to leave the court for a week in session
time--no common sacrifice; but I had a notion I could be useful, and I
was to attend a proof here about the same time. But will you not
introduce me to the young ladies? Ah! there is one I should have known at
once from her family likeness! Miss Lucy Bertram, my love, I am most
happy to see you.' And he folded her in his arms, and gave her a hearty
kiss on each side of the face, to which Lucy submitted in blushing
resignation.

'On n'arrete pas dans un si beau chemin,' continued the gay old
gentleman, and, as the Colonel presented him to Julia, took the same
liberty with that fair lady's cheek. Julia laughed, coloured, and
disengaged herself. 'I beg a thousand pardons,' said the lawyer, with a
bow which was not at all professionally awkward; 'age and old fashions
give privileges, and I can hardly say whether I am most sorry just now at
being too well entitled to claim them at all, or happy in having such an
opportunity to exercise them so agreeably.'

'Upon my word, sir,' said Miss Mannering, laughing, 'if you make such
flattering apologies we shall begin to doubt whether we can admit you to
shelter yourself under your alleged qualifications.'

'I can assure you, Julia,' said the Colonel, 'you are perfectly right. My
friend the Counsellor is a dangerous person; the last time I had the
pleasure of seeing him he was closeted with a fair lady who had granted
him a tete-a-tete at eight in the morning.'

'Ay, but, Colonel,' said the Counsellor, 'you should add, I was more
indebted to my chocolate than my charms for so distinguished a favour
from a person of such propriety of demeanour as Mrs. Rebecca.'

'And that should remind me, Mr. Pleydell,' said Julia, 'to offer you tea;
that is, supposing you have dined.'

'Anything, Miss Mannering, from your hands,' answered the gallant
jurisconsult; 'yes, I have dined; that is to say, as people dine at a
Scotch inn.'

'And that is indifferently enough,' said the Colonel, with his hand upon
the bell-handle; 'give me leave to order something.'

'Why, to say truth, 'replied Mr. Pleydell, 'I had rather not. I have been
inquiring into that matter, for you must know I stopped an instant below
to pull off my boot-hose, "a world too wide for my shrunk shanks,"'
glancing down with some complacency upon limbs which looked very well for
his time of life, 'and I had some conversation with your Barnes and a
very intelligent person whom I presume to be the housekeeper; and it was
settled among us, tota re perspecta,--I beg Miss Mannering's pardon for
my Latin,--that the old lady should add to your light family supper the
more substantial refreshment of a brace of wild ducks. I told her (always
under deep submission) my poor thoughts about the sauce, which concurred
exactly with her own; and, if you please, I would rather wait till they
are ready before eating anything solid.'

'And we will anticipate our usual hour of supper,' said the Colonel.

'With all my heart,' said Pleydell, 'providing I do not lose the ladies'
company a moment the sooner. I am of counsel with my old friend Burnet;
[Footnote: See Note 5] I love the coena, the supper of the ancients, the
pleasant meal and social glass that wash out of one's mind the cobwebs
that business or gloom have been spinning in our brains all day.'

The vivacity of Mr. Pleydell's look and manner, and the quietness with
which he made himself at home on the subject of his little epicurean
comforts, amused the ladies, but particularly Miss Mannering, who
immediately gave the Counsellor a great deal of flattering attention; and
more pretty things were said on both sides during the service of the
tea-table than we have leisure to repeat.

As soon as this was over, Mannering led the Counsellor by the arm into a
small study which opened from the saloon, and where, according to the
custom of the family, there were always lights and a good fire in the
evening.

'I see,'said Mr. Pleydell, 'you have got something to tell me about the
Ellangowan business. Is it terrestrial or celestial? What says my
military Albumazar? Have you calculated the course of futurity? have you
consulted your ephemerides, your almochoden, your almuten?'

'No, truly, Counsellor,' replied Mannering, 'you are the only Ptolemy I
intend to resort to upon the present occasion. A second Prospero, I have
broken my staff and drowned my book far beyond plummet depth. But I have
great news notwithstanding. Meg Merrilies, our Egyptian sibyl, has
appeared to the Dominie this very day, and, as I conjecture, has
frightened the honest man not a little.'

'Indeed?'

'Ay, and she has done me the honour to open a correspondence with me,
supposing me to be as deep in astrological mysteries as when we first
met. Here is her scroll, delivered to me by the Dominie.'

Pleydell put on his spectacles. 'A vile greasy scrawl, indeed; and the
letters are uncial or semi-uncial, as somebody calls your large text
hand, and in size and perpendicularity resemble the ribs of a roasted
pig; I can hardly make it out.'

'Read aloud,' said Mannering.

'I will try,' answered the Lawyer. '"YOU ARE A GOOD SEEKER, BUT A BAD
FINDER; YOU SET YOURSELF TO PROP A FALLING HOUSE, BUT HAD A GEY GUESS IT
WOULD RISE AGAIN. LEND YOUR HAND TO THE WORK THAT'S NEAR, AS YOU LENT
YOUR EE TO THE WEIRD THAT WAS FAR. HAVE A CARRIAGE THIS NIGHT BY TEN
O'CLOCK AT THE END OF THE CROOKED DYKES AT PORTANFERRY, AND LET IT BRING
THE FOLK TO WOODBOURNE THAT SHALL ASK THEM, IF THEY BE THERE IN GOD'S
NAME."--Stay, here follows some poetry--

     "DARK SHALL BE LIGHT,
     AND WRONG DONE TO RIGHT,
     WHEN BERTRAM'S RIGHT AND BERTRAM'S MIGHT
     SHALL MEET ON ELLANGOWAN'S HEIGHT."

A most mystic epistle truly, and closes in a vein of poetry worthy of the
Cumaean sibyl. And what have you done?'

'Why,' said Mannering, rather reluctantly, 'I was loth to risk any
opportunity of throwing light on this business. The woman is perhaps
crazed, and these effusions may arise only from visions of her
imagination; but you were of opinion that she knew more of that strange
story than she ever told.'

'And so,' said Pleydell, 'you sent a carriage to the place named?'

'You will laugh at me if I own I did,' replied the Colonel.

'Who, I?' replied the Advocate. 'No, truly, I think it was the wisest
thing you could do.'

'Yes,' answered Mannering, well pleased to have escaped the ridicule he
apprehended; 'you know the worst is paying the chaise-hire. I sent a
post-chaise and four from Kippletringan, with instructions corresponding
to the letter; the horses will have a long and cold station on the
outpost to-night if our intelligence be false.'

'Ay, but I think it will prove otherwise,' said the Lawyer. 'This woman
has played a part till she believes it; or, if she be a thorough-paced
impostor, without a single grain of self-delusion to qualify her knavery,
still she may think herself bound to act in character; this I know, that
I could get nothing out of her by the common modes of interrogation, and
the wisest thing we can do is to give her an opportunity of making the
discovery her own way. And now have you more to say, or shall we go to
the ladies?'

'Why, my mind is uncommonly agitated,' answered the Colonel, 'and--but I
really have no more to say; only I shall count the minutes till the
carriage returns; but you cannot be expected to be so anxious.'

'Why, no; use is all in all,' said the more experienced lawyer; 'I am
much interested certainly, but I think I shall be able to survive the
interval, if the ladies will afford us some music.'

'And with the assistance of the wild ducks, by and by?' suggested
Mannering.

'True, Colonel; a lawyer's anxiety about the fate of the most interesting
cause has seldom spoiled either his sleep or digestion. [Footnote: See
Note 6.] And yet I shall be very eager to hear the rattle of these wheels
on their return, notwithstanding.'

So saying, he rose and led the way into the next room, where Miss
Mannering, at his request, took her seat at the harpsichord, Lucy
Bertram, who sung her native melodies very sweetly, was accompanied by
her friend upon the instrument, and Julia afterwards performed some of
Scarlatti's sonatas with great brilliancy. The old lawyer, scraping a
little upon the violoncello, and being a member of the gentlemen's
concert in Edinburgh, was so greatly delighted with this mode of spending
the evening that I doubt if he once thought of the wild ducks until
Barnes informed the company that supper was ready.

'Tell Mrs. Allan to have something in readiness,' said the Colonel; 'I
expect--that is, I hope--perhaps some company may be here to-night; and
let the men sit up, and do not lock the upper gate on the lawn until I
desire you.'

'Lord, sir,' said Julia, 'whom can you possibly expect to-night?'

'Why, some persons, strangers to me, talked of calling in the evening on
business,' answered her father, not without embarrassment, for he would
have little brooked a disappointment which might have thrown ridicule on
his judgment; 'it is quite uncertain.'

'Well, we shall not pardon them for disturbing our party,' said Julia,
'unless they bring as much good-humour and as susceptible hearts as my
friend and admirer, for so he has dubbed himself, Mr. Pleydell.'

'Ah, Miss Julia,' said Pleydell, offering his arm with an air of
gallantry to conduct her into the eating-room, 'the time has been, when I
returned from Utrecht in the year 1738--'

'Pray don't talk of it,' answered the young lady; 'we like you much
better as you are. Utrecht, in Heaven's name! I daresay you have spent
all the intervening years in getting rid so completely of the effects of
your Dutch education.'

'O forgive me, Miss Mannering,' said the Lawyer, 'the Dutch are a much
more accomplished people in point of gallantry than their volatile
neighbours are willing to admit. They are constant as clock-work in their
attentions.'

'I should tire of that,' said Julia.

'Imperturbable in their good temper,' continued Pleydell.

'Worse and worse,' said the young lady.

'And then,' said the old beau garcon, 'although for six times three
hundred and sixty-five days your swain has placed the capuchin round your
neck, and the stove under your feet, and driven your little sledge upon
the ice in winter, and your cabriole through the dust in summer, you may
dismiss him at once, without reason or apology, upon the two thousand one
hundred and ninetieth day, which, according to my hasty calculation, and
without reckoning leap-years, will complete the cycle of the supposed
adoration, and that without your amiable feelings having the slightest
occasion to be alarmed for the consequences to those of Mynheer.'

'Well,' replied Julia,' that last is truly a Dutch recommendation, Mr.
Pleydell; crystal and hearts would lose all their merit in the world if
it were not for their fragility.'